


we tried the world

by lovemutt



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Brotherhood assassin finds girl, Gen, Murder, Says 'this is mine now', the Forsworn are assholes actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovemutt/pseuds/lovemutt
Summary: Allia the Fair wasn't so fair after the Forsworn found her, was she?





	we tried the world

**Author's Note:**

> I felt the need to retcon an old Skyrim character I had-- and retcon her I did. I wrote this in like, an hour, so go easy on me, alright?

Her hands ached. The grip of the dagger had started to blister an hour ago, yet she couldn't bring herself to stop. How could she? She needed this. She needed them to pay. She heard herself repeating the chant even though her throat burned, even though she didn't even notice it anymore.

_Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me._

She wasn’t sure if they should have been here by now, it had been quite a while. Too long, perhaps. Did they show up quickly? Did it take them a few days? They hadn't exactly said it in the book. The smell of everything in the tiny room was starting to burn the young woman's nose, the candles, the bitter scent of the nightshade, the tang from the blood and the meat...

She had to ignore it. If she realized what she'd done, what she was doing, let the anger fade, she'd be mortified. Now was not the time to be weak. Now was not the time to be Allia the Fair. She couldn't be that right now, not until it was all over, until they were all dead.

Her palm stung and her hand slipped, the dagger dropping to the floor. She leaned back, eyes searching for it in the darkened room as she pressed her blistered palm into her dress, lips pursing. Her dress was stained by now, some mix of dirt and blood and sweat from everything. It had been nearly a day now, if her time was right.

Forsworn found them, at least that's what Allia thought they were. Her mother said they were all safe, perfectly secure in their village. The boys would protect them. The guard would keep them safe. Her mother was wrong, they were all wrong.

Allia was well versed in the ways of hiding, always having to rush away from the boys. She found a space in her family's cellar where no one could find her, right behind the table her brother read books by and tucked into the crevice she was just small enough to get through. She hid books and snacks there for when she wanted to get away, and for once it seemed like that wasn't some cute, childish thing she did, now it was something smart. Something that let her stayed hidden while she heard the screams and shouting from outside, from upstairs, from five feet away...

She found the dagger.

She stabbed it down once it was in hand, her voice coming in a shudder and a sigh before she managed to speak again. She would do this as much as she had to, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how tired she was. She had to.

_Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear._

It wasn't hard to get the nightshade. She had seen some in the merchant's cart, and they either thankfully or sadly didn't have time to get out. The dagger from her birthday, the candles from her room, all easy. The rest, all the...parts, those weren't exactly hard either.

One of the Forsworn lingered, wondered down to the cellar, and Allia saw the chance. It was the first fight she'd ever gotten into, and it left her with bruises and scrapes and a dead body. She had always read, finding more and more books to fill her hunger for whimsy, and she'd picked up books she knew her father would disapprove of.

A Kiss, Sweet Mother was closed and tucked close to her side as she stabbed the effigy she'd constructed. She'd followed it as closely as she could. Blood and fear, it said, and she would make sure blood and fear it would ensure.

She heard the door open. She left the dagger embedded in the effigy, her eyes going to the stairs as she heard them slowly being descended. One red boot, then two. They were here. Her palm was rubbed raw, her nose burned, but they were here.

When the assassin got to the end of the stairs, they stared at Allia for a moment, and Allia stared back just as blankly, just as judgingly. The girl tried to push herself off the ground but found herself unable to move, maybe do to the exhaustion or maybe the adrenaline. Finally, the figure spoke, "Hello, young one." They said, moving further into the light. A woman. "Quite the mess out there, you know." The stranger said, eyes sliding from the effigy to Allia to the figure covered with a blanket and covered in flowers in the far regions of the room. "But I think that's why I'm here."

"I need them dead. I don't know the names, but they're Forsworn." Allia found herself saying before she could catch the words, "They're close to here, I think. In the caves. I don't know."

"What ever could you give me for such a large job, hm? You seem to be in a very bad spot right now."

Allia had thought about it since she decided to do this. What could she give them? The gold her family left behind, heirlooms, gems? She had gathered all she could into a chest and she pointed to it. The assassins eyes went to where she was pointing, staring before returning their eyes to her.

"Fair." The woman said, tilting her head ever so slightly, eyes scanning Allia. "Tell me, young one, would you like to come with? At the very least you could get away from this smell." She said, taking a few cautious steps towards Allia, on guard, just in case. Allia was all too quick to say yes, finding the will to somehow lift herself from the floor, knees shaking from the weight of it all. They left the village minutes later, and Allia found herself trampling through the forests that seemed so unaffected by the carnage she was leaving behind. The sting of the bitter scents no longer in her nose but instead damp dirt and moss, and the young woman found herself focusing on the snap of twigs underfoot rather than the way her skirt stuck to her knees from where she knelt in blood.

She stayed just outside the cave, tucked away like she always was, eyes closed almost peacefully and head laying against the stone as screams echoed from the cave. Blood and fear, she was promised, and blood and fear is what she got. The buzz of the flies didn't even bother her, the spikes stuck in the ground from the degenerate Forsworn's own effigies had no burden on her mind, instead all she could focus on was the sun on her back, the rushing off the water from the stream, and the beautiful sounds of revenge. The assassin came out later, and Allia had taken to being curled up beside the cave opening, eyes closed, blood stains torn from her dress to look ratty and poor.

She didn't even seem bothered with the woman crouched next to her, eyes analyzing her. "What's your name?" The assassin asked, Allia taking longer than she should have to sit up, eyes half-lided.

"Allia the Fair." She replied. She felt the dirt and grim on her face, the blood seeped into her nails and the blisters on her hands. Maybe the name didn't fit her so much. The woman seemed to think the same, eyes showing doubt for a moment before she spoke, going so far as to pull the mask covering her mouth down, her lips pursed into a fine line.

"You're different, Allia. I like you. You weren't scared when I entered your cellar, you didn't stutter nor trip over your own words. You willingly came into the forest with me. You remind me so of myself. Would you like to come with me? The Family would like to meet you just as much as I did."

Allia was perhaps too quick to say yes.

Once more she was walking through the woods, mind weighing all she had done. She had been promised a home when they got to the Sanctuary, and when Allia remined the woman about the treasure in the village she glanced towards her. _You're the treasure for this job, young one._

She'd been called a treasure before, always a treasure, but this was different. She felt the pain in her skin, the grim on her body, the bruises and scrapes and cuts that covered her, and she knew that this time it wasn't because she was pretty, that she was sweet and beautiful and any man would be lucky to have her. This was something different. She said this all to the woman, her eyes on the path.

_You are not a treasure for being fair, young one. This time, you're a treasure for being unbroken._

Unbroken. Allia liked that. When they arrived at the Sanctuary, night coating the land, passing through the Black Door and meeting the family, the Family posed a question. She thought, silent and searching, and she finally spoke in the same way she had every time today, without thought. _Allia the Unbroken._ Those present smiled at her, silently, and for once she felt like her name was just

 


End file.
